Page 25 of Ecstasy
“Oh. Wow…” she finally says. “I’m uh…Why?”she asks, shaking her head, her brows furrowed together.
I laugh a little, still braiding my hair and meeting her gaze again in the mirror. “You just pointed out that he’s a jerk, right?”
She just keeps staring at me blankly. She’s dating a pre-med kid, Ian. A nice, quiet guy that she’s head over heels for. I think the whole concept of cheating is so foreign to Kylie that she probably wants to kick me out of the apartment right now so I don’t contaminate her with my slutty ways.
“He let Rihanna Martinson kiss him after practice last week, so I sucked another guy off.” I grab a small elastic from the counter of my bathroom, fasten my braid, and go to work on the other side.
Alex loves when I wear my hair in braids.
I hope I see him before my philosophy seminar.
“Zara!” Kylie gasps, a hand over her poor little heart. “That’s… that’s terrible.”
I shrug. “Well, Rihanna is dead now, so—”
“No,” she interrupts me, her voice rising an octave. “It’s terrible that you… that you…”
“Sucked another guy’s dick?” I supply, since she seems to be choking on the words. Every pun intended.
Her light brown skin goes pale and she looks like she might faint. “Yeah. That.”
I finish braiding my hair, flick both ends over my shoulders and grab my toothbrush, wet it under the sink, and squeeze on toothpaste and start brushing.
I shrug and shake my head, but don’t say anything until I’m done brushing, spitting in the sink and wiping my hand over the back of my mouth.
“Yeah, well.” I turn to face her after I set the brush down. “No one ever said I was a good person, huh, Kylie?” I pat her awkwardly on the back and walk out of the bathroom, across my room, to my little walk-in closet.
“Gah, Zara. That’s… wow,” I hear her mumbling, and I don’t even know if she’s talking to me or herself at this point.
I pull a cream-colored tank from a hanger, grab my pale blue jeans, then my white bralette that’s hanging on the back of the closet door. I start to change in the closet, and Kylie keeps talking, not really ready to give this up yet, apparently.
She clears her throat first, then says, “People have been saying the police are ruling out murder. About Rihanna.”
I roll my eyes, unseen by her. “Yeah, they have to. They’re the police,” I call back to her from the closet.
“Yeah…” she trails off, but I know she’s not done, because Kylie is a curious girl. It’s one of the things that I like about her. She’s super into science, which I hate, and she doesn’t party, which I don’t get, but she asks a lot of questions about a lot of things. Sometimes that’s annoying as hell, but sometimes it makes for interesting conversations. Like the time she drilled Ian about his past sexual partners at the dining room table.
Ian’s face was beet red as he shoved his glasses up his nose and looked down at his hands.
Kylie was seemingly oblivious to his embarrassment. She just really wanted to know.
“You don’t think anyone hurt her, do you?” she continues.
I straighten my top and walk out of the closet. “Like who?”
She shrugs, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. “I mean, I wasn’t there, but… I don’t know. Alex didn’t really have a problem pulling down your top in front of all of those people and, you know, he’s got a bad temper.”
I wince, remembering the time I threw a glass cup at the wall in the living room, in the middle of one of our fights. It shattered into pieces and Alex took the blame when Kylie came out of her room, horrified.
He’s not the only one with a bad temper.
We’re like fire and gasoline.
“Kylie. He didn’t kill Rihanna. He was with me all night.” Yeah, he’s a hot head but the idea of Alex killing anyone is kind of hilarious. I push past Kylie back into the bathroom and grab my Chapstick from the counter. As I roll it over my lips, a sharp sting makes me wince. I lean in closer to the mirror, pulling up my top lip.
There’s a small cut, angry and red.
From where Alex pried my mouth open with a tequila bottle.
